Caleb nods, his expression is still smooth. The only way I can tell he’s nervous is that his right hand is clutching the sofa cushion tightly. “We saw her last Saturday night, the night of the party. A lot of people did. She came in, screamed at us, and left.”

            Officer Love’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, so you had a fight the night she went missing?”He scribbles something on a note pad, but Caleb keeps talking. “Yeah, she was really drunk. She was saying we only liked her for her money, and screaming that we weren’t her friends, I dunno.” He shrugs, frowning and shaking his head. “I’m never sure what kind of mood she’s going to be in next.”

            “Interesting.” Officer Holt leans forward. “Would you say that she’s prone to mood swings or unpredictable behavior?”

            I grit my teeth as Caleb nods. He’s trying to make it out like I’m some sort of crazy person. Where’s he going with this?

            “She’s a bit nuts,” Caleb says. “Fun to party with though. But she was always ranting about something. Her friends, or me, or her parents…”

            “She didn’t have a good relationship with her parents?” Officer Holt asks, arching one over-plucked brow at Caleb.

            Caleb lets out a snort of laughter. “Definitely not. She pretty much hates them. They’re too busy for her. Her dad’s some comic book writer or something, so they’re always off at some conference. They never have time for her.”

            At this point I’m so mad that there might be smoke coming out of my nostrils. I’m clutching the end of my sweater so tightly my fingertips have gone numb. Briefly I wonder if it’s an effort for him to speak about me in the present tense. I cross my fingers and hope that he’ll slip up and say “she was”. That would raise some questions.

            “And that upset her?” Officer Holt says, leaning forward intently. “Did she ever voice the desire to run away, or talk about it at all?”

            Caleb shrugs, he looks upset, and I want to scream in frustration. How can he be so good at lying? He’s so convincing. “She talked about it, sure,” he says, “but I never took her seriously.” He drops his head, running his hand through his hair. He looks distressed. “I should have listened.”

            Officer Love’s mouth is a straight line. He’s unimpressed with the theatrics. He turns to look at Nakia.“You’re very quiet young lady. What about you, did you ever hear Breanne saying she wanted to run away?”

            Nakia fidgets, she looks like she’s about to burst into tears. “She talked about it before,” she mutters, “but, like he said, I didn’t take it seriously.”

            There’s silence for a moment, and then Officer Love says, “You see anything suspicious that night? Anyone at the party you didn’t know? Any strangers that seemed interested in Breanna?”

            Caleb blinks in surprise and then blurts out, “What? Are you thinking she’s been kidnapped?”

            The officer shrugs, still studying Caleb’s face carefully. “We’ve got to cover all our bases. Any information you have could be a helpful lead.”

            “No, well…. I don’t think so,” Caleb says. “I knew most of the people at the party, but of course, it’s a party. Friends invite friends.”

            Officer Love looks disappointed, and his partner smiles and says, “Very good. Tell me, Caleb, was Breanne seeing anyone else at all? Besides yourself.”

            His smile slides, he’s too good at faking emotion. “I sure hope not. I don’t think so.” he glances at Nakia, who shakes her head. “No, Bree would have told me.”

            “Do you think she could be in danger?” Officer Love leans forward, his eyes drilling into Caleb. “What do you think?”

            Caleb’s frowns. “I hope not. I’m honestly hoping she’ll pop up in a few days, saying she’s been to Mexico or something. I don’t know.” He rubs his chin wearily. “It wouldn’t surprise me. I just wish she’d told me, or left a note or something.”

            I listen as the officers ask them several more questions. With each answer he gives them I can see Officer Love looking more annoyed. Finally officer Holt says, “Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you for being so cooperative. Can we call you if we have any more questions?”

            “Of course.” Caleb stands up to shake their hands, and Officer Love stares at him piercingly. He must have squeezed his hand quite firmly, because Caleb winces a little. The officers leave, telling Caleb and Nakia to call them if they can think of any information, and Caleb shuts the door behind them. He waits till they’re down the driveway and then turns on Nakia.

            “You totally froze,” he hisses.

            “You lied your ass off, it’s fine.” She glares at him. “They lapped it up, so you can just relax.”

            “The guy didn’t.” Caleb leans sideways, peering out the window. He watches them climb into their squad car. I stand beside him, wishing that Officer Love would come back and ask more questions. The man is clearly suspicious of Caleb. Maybe he won’t give up. He looked like a determined sort of man. I hope to God he’d labeled Caleb a “Person of Interest”.

            Nakia vanishes into her bedroom, slamming the door, and he saunters into the living room, muttering under his breath. I catch the words, “bitch” and “crazy”. What a surprise. When is it ever his fault? He killed me and lied to the police about it, but if Nakia gets mad and slams a door, she’s the crazy one. Sure. It brings back memories of a fight we’d had. A Fight that Caleb had won easily. I had given him grief for hitting on a girl at a party in front of me, and suddenly it was me who was acting crazy. What had he told me? Jealousy is an ugly trait. And foolish little me, not wanting to appear ugly, had always kept my mouth shut after that.

My chest is tight with anger and my insides writhe, the hatred and rage crashing together, building up into a maelstrom. When I look up I catch myself off guard. The thin strip of mirror above the gas fireplace reflects my face. Huge sunken eyes. Chalky pale skin. Wild black hair. Just for a split second. I exist and then I’m gone. But Caleb stiffens, stumbles backwards. His hands shoot up to his face and he rubs his eyes, backing away from the mirror slowly. When he gets clear of the living room he bolts down the hall and slams his door just as hard as Nakia had.

            He saw me.

            Nakia is crying again, quiet sobs into her pillow in the dark. She talks to me again tonight, like anyone else might murmur bedtime prayers. Confessing that she wanted to tell the police everything, just blurt it out right then and there and hope that they would protect her from Caleb. But she’s too scared. She doesn’t want to go to jail. She doesn’t want to have to see her parents, who would surely hear about it. She confesses that if she were sent to jail she would just have to stay there, because when she got out her father would beat her within an inch of her life. I hover, pacing back and forth, stomach turning as I listen. I should have asked her about her parents. I should have persisted and found out. Why hadn’t I asked her what was wrong at home?

Why hadn’t I known how bad her life was? Thinking about how careless I’d been around her makes me sick. How many times had I flaunted some new shiny toy? How many times had I complained about my parents always being away and being alone in that huge house, when that was probably all Nakia wished for. She had listened to me whine about my parents and then she’d gone back to her dirty house and her abusive parents. She’d never even said anything. No wonder she’d slowly grown twisted with jealousy over the years. Was this partly my fault?

 When she finally rolls over, crying hot tears into her pillow, I turn and leave, drifting angrily down the hall, fists clenched at my sides.

            Caleb’s door is open, and a single thick bar of light shines into his room, falling over the foot of the bed. When I move to stand in the doorway the light doesn’t shift, it just shines through me. I can see his still form under the covers. His face is shadowed. He’s snoring, a rasping, wheezing sound, like an old man. I’m repulsed to my very core. If my hatred was a tangible force it would destroy him, pressing him to the bed, crushing the life from his warm, living body. If my eyes were capable of killing he would be smoldering right now, screaming, flesh melting off his bones.

            He rolls over with a snort, and then I see the whites of his eyes in the dark. He’s awake. Caleb sits straight up, propping himself up on one elbow. His eyes are open wide now. He looks straight at me, “Who’s that?  Nakia, is that you?”

            Shock courses through me, replacing the anger. Can he see me? Caleb gasps, a short, sharp noise. A startled breath in the darkness.  Slowly he sits up. His eyes go past me now, searching through the dark for something, and I taste bitter disappointment. He can’t see me anymore.

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